


Beautiful monster

by azziria



Series: Club can't handle me [5]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-16
Updated: 2011-01-16
Packaged: 2017-10-14 19:29:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/152680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azziria/pseuds/azziria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve gets a kick out of seeing just how far he can push Danny...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful monster

**Author's Note:**

> How Chin and Kono find out. Chronologically comes after _One step at a time_ , but can be read as a standalone.

One of these days – in fact, most likely today, Danny thinks – he’s going to kill Steve. He’s not quite sure yet exactly how he’s going to do it – string him up and carve him with one of his own knives, maybe, or lure him to the edge of one of the cliffs he’s so gung-ho about cavorting along the top of and push him off, or maybe even do it execution-style with a big gun in front of everyone on the steps of HQ – but he’s definitely going to do it. Messily, creatively, and spectacularly, because right now _nothing_ is too good for McGarrett, because the bastard has been fucking with his head _all day long_.

They’re supposed to be taking this thing slow, keeping it private for a while, and that’s gone really well for a few days. Sure, the first morning after this... thing, whatever it is, between him and Steve actually became a _thing_ , Chin asked Steve if Catherine was back in town (which garnered a look of honest-to-goodness puzzlement from Steve, and for fuck's sake, does the guy really have _no idea_ what effect getting laid has on him?). And Danny was pretty sure that it was on the tip of Kono's tongue a couple of times to ask him if he knew what the boss was so happy about, but both times Danny managed to sidestep the issue without (or so he thinks) being too obvious. So Danny was actually starting to relax about the whole business, to feel that it might just be going to work out OK, when along came Monday, and a whole new week, and Steve unexpectedly going right off the reservation.

So today, today is Monday, and Danny has spent the weekend with Grace, trying not to think about Steve McGarrett more than was absolutely necessary, thank you. He tried not to think about the way Steve’s abs tensed rock hard when Danny first ran his tongue over them, or the way Steve’s breath hitched when Danny grazed his nipple with his teeth, or the sound Steve made in the back of his throat when Danny swallowed him down, but these acts of self-denial only resulted in his subconscious serving up the sort of dreams that he couldn’t recall without blushing, and certainly didn't want to recall with his daughter in the room, thank you very much.

And then Steve was waiting on his doorstep when he got back from dropping Grace off, looking kind of uncertain and determined and... eager, in a way that made Danny’s heart jump (and really, Danny knows that he should probably have been freaked out by the fact that Steve had obviously been running surveillance on him, rather than accepting it as perfectly normal, reasonable and understandable behavior on Steve’s part, but that’s how weird his life has got recently). So Steve got invited in, and Danny had hardly got the door shut before Steve pinned him against it and kissed him in a dirty and desperate way that strongly suggested that maybe Steve had been having those dreams too. The upshot was that they took it to the pull-out and made out in a way that inevitably escalated and resulted in Danny needing to change the sheets, and then, despite bitching about Danny’s mattress, Steve ended up staying the night, eating most of Danny’s breakfast, and heading off to work bright and early in an insufferably good mood.

Insufferable. Yeah, Danny thinks, that’s a good word for him.

So Danny got up and got ready for work as normal, this Monday morning, pausing only to take a long hard look at himself in the mirror, a long hard look at this new Danny Williams, the one who’s sleeping with his partner, who’s also his boss, and a guy, and a crazy motherfucker to boot. And Danny found himself wondering, for a fleeting moment, as he got his shit together and headed out the door, who was really the craziest around here.

In retrospect, of course, he realizes that he should have known straight off that things were about to take a trip south in the proverbial handbasket. He should have known when he made it into the Monday morning briefing late (because his bout of man-in-the-mirror introspection meant that he got caught in the rush hour traffic) and Steve looked right at him, innocent as they come, raised an eyebrow and said oh-so-sweetly “You’re late, Danno, you oversleep or something? Had a hard night?” He should have known right there, right at that moment, alarm bells and sirens should have been sounding in his brain, but he's blaming it on sleep deprivation , and on still being off-balance from the sudden and startling turn his sex life has taken, that he totally failed to read the warning signs.

Of course, at that point he was also still labouring under the misapprehension (naive and stupid, he knows) that Stephen J. McGarrett understood concepts like _subtlety_ and _tact_ and _taking things slow_. And that said Stephen J. McGarrett had a _the first fucking clue_ about how to do relationships.

“You and the boss seem to be getting on better,” Kono said, catching him at the coffee machine after the briefing (and why is it that the coffee machine always figures so large in Kono’s intelligence-gathering strategies?).

”Yeah,” Danny said, trying to act nonchalant, “We had a coupla beers, sorted some stuff out. We’re good.”

“He pay?”

”What d’you think?”

Kono grinned. “Ah, so he pulled the old ‘I’ve left my wallet in my other pants’ trick again, did he? Why do you keep falling for that, brah?”

”Keep falling for what?” And fuck Steve and his fucking ninja SEAL skills, it’s not right that a guy his size should be able to move that quietly.

”I was, uh, just telling Kono that you forgot your wallet again when we had our little _heart-to-heart over a few beers_ the other night. Which didn’t surprise me, because, you know, you actually _paying_ for your own beer is as unlikely as Rachel letting me have Grace for Thanksgiving _and_ Christmas, or Chin letting _you_ borrow his motorcycle..."

And Steve actually had the nerve to look wounded at that, or at least had a shot at it, and Danny almost – almost – felt sorry for him.

Until Steve smirked - fucking smirked - at him, walked right up to him and plastered himself up against him to reach over his head and grab a mug from the top shelf. “Scuse me, Danny,” and Danny could feel every inch of Steve up against him, could feel his muscles shift, could feel the heat coming off his skin, was suddenly hyper aware of Steve – and of course the bastard was doing it on purpose, Danny suddenly knew that for sure, the bastard was playing games with Danny. But Kono was there, Kono was watching, so Danny controlled the urge to either jab an elbow hard back into Steve’s stomach, or turn and get his hands on him and give him what he clearly deserved, forced himself to relax and wriggled free, “What, didn’t they teach you to wait your turn in the Army? Some of us were here first, asshole.” And made a dignified exit to the sound of Steve protesting that it was the _Navy_ , Danny, the _Navy_. Because, predictable or what, McGarrett?

Of course it didn’t end there, how could it with Steve fucking McGarrett involved? In retrospect, of course, Danny knows that he should have just ignored it completely. He is a father, dammit, with experience of juvenile attention-seeking behaviour, he should have been more than capable of stonewalling McGarrett's antics, of nipping the whole thing in the bud right there and then. But then there’s the whole head/dick dichotomy thing going on (because Danny’s dick is apparently about twenty years behind his head in the taking a mature, grown up approach to the Steve McGarrett situation) which apparently made ignoring McGarrett a total impossibility. And given that Steve goes out of his way to wind Danny up on a good day, and senses weakness like a shark scents blood, well, Danny figures that in all honesty he didn't really stand a chance.

So Danny knows that when Steve crowded in close at the computer table, hip to shoulder against Danny, and reached slowly across him to pull up the required file, Danny knows that he should just have stood his ground and not shifted uncomfortably a little to the right. Because how was Steve going to miss that?

And he knows that the first time Steve spilled his coffee and pulled his shirt off he should have stared and made some wisecrack, not looked away swallowing uncomfortably and wishing he could loosen his tie. (And, seriously, he's sure _Kono_ didn't miss that.)

Just like he knows that the second time the shirt came off he should have called Steve on it, loudly and obnoxiously, instead of suddenly pretending to find the police report he had in his hand utterly enthralling. And he knows that when Steve leaned into him to look at the case notes he had spread out on the table and rested his hand on Danny's shoulder, thumb rubbing in small circles across the blade, he shouldn't have flinched at the sudden heat of that hand burning through his shirt, shrugging it off and sidestepping out of Steve's space. And he knows that he shouldn't have blushed every time Steve looked at him and licked his lips, wide-eyed and innocent and knowing exactly what effect it was having on Danny's dick...

Problem was, of course, that the more aware Danny got of what the bastard was doing, the less sure he became about what was intentional and what was Steve just being... well, being _Steve_. Because McGarrett's always pulled this shit, right from the get-go, always been too close into Danny's personal space, always stepped over boundaries. It's just that Danny's mind now had the intel to supply all Steve's actions with a vividly-imagined subtext, and intentional or not it was doing Danny's head in, big time. He was pissed and he was horny and it wasn't a good mix.

So the third time Steve stripped his shirt off, standing right in the middle of the war room and pulling the T up and over his head with a long slow stretch that left Danny dry-mouthed at the sight of tanned skin playing over lean muscle, well, the third time was the last straw. Because the fucker was looking right at Danny as he did it, clearly trying for smouldering and (so far as Danny’s libido was concerned, anyway) just as clearly getting there. And whatever happened to keeping this thing between them private? Because there was no way Chin and Kono... and suddenly Danny couldn't take any more, didn't care what Chin or Kono thought, pushed up from the table muttering savagely about paperwork to fill in and stalked off to his office, where he spent the rest of the afternoon trying to fill in forms and trying not think about what exactly he'd like to do to Steve McGarrett given the chance. And ignoring the argument his dick and his head were clearly having about what a suitable punishment for McGarrett might be.

So, it’s Monday, it’s been a long and trying day, and Steve McGarrett is a jerk and an asshole and insanely annoying, but come the end of the day Danny’s still lingering in the office, sort of waiting to see what happens without trying to look as though he gives a damn. Because, truth is, he has no idea how this thing is going to go down – if it’s going to be a ‘hang out together most nights’ kind of thing (because, honestly, as if they don’t already spend far too much time together as it is), or an ‘only on weekends’ kind of thing, or maybe even an ‘only-when-I’m-desperate-to-get-laid’ kind of thing (and Danny has his preferences, or would have if he actually _liked_ McGarrett right now, but really the pathetic truth is that he’ll pretty much take what he can get and be thankful).

So Danny’s loitering, and eventually his loitering pays off, because McGarrett appears in his doorway, looking all casual and as if butter wouldn’t melt and just like it was any ordinary Monday and not one that he’d spent trying to drive his partner insane.

“How’s it going, Danno? You got plans, or d’you fancy grabbing a slice and taking it back to my place?”

And he’s really, seriously going to pretend that nothing’s been going on today? Seriously? And at this point Danny realises that he would really, truly like to hit Steve right now, preferably exceedingly hard and with something large and blunt, but he controls himself. “Oh, I don’t know, you tell me. What sort of day do _you_ think I’ve had?”

”Well, now you mention it, Danno, you did seem a little hot under the collar once or twice today...” And the fucker is smirking, just a hint, to be sure, but nonetheless it’s a smirk, and Danny’s blood pressure climbs a notch.

”And why do you think that might be, _Stephen_? What _exactly_ do you think might have been making me a bit 'hot under the collar’, as you so charmingly put it?”

Steve shrugs, fucking shrugs, blunt instruments are too good for him, it would be over too fast, Danny’s more in favour of the whole death by a thousand cuts approach right now, preferably stretched out over a whole weekend, “Well then, let me enlighten you. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought we’d agreed that we’d take this... thing... slow. That we’d keep it to ourselves for a while, keep it _private_ , as in _between the two of us_. But no, apparently that’s too difficult a concept for your Neanderthal brain to handle, apparently you need to advertise it to the whole world, 'Hey guys, guess what, Danny and I are together, we're doing it like fucking _bunnies_ , just in case you hadn't noticed!'

And maybe, just maybe for a fleeting moment there’s a hint, the tiniest suspicion of contrition on Steve's face, but this is Steve, so it’s gone in a heartbeat, replaced by a truly impressive game face of wounded innocence.

"I don't know what you mean, Danny..."

And Danny knows he's losing, knows that he really doesn't have the ordnance to deal with that face. "All that stuff you've pulled today."

”All what stuff?”

”That 'let's see how far we can push Danny' stuff. That 'let's see if we can get caught out' stuff. Like that business at the coffee machine this morning. In front of _Kono_ , of all people, like she’s not going to notice that you’re draped all over me like a fucking blanket! And then the touching...”

”I always touch you.”

”And the winding me up, the jerking my chain, the pulling my pigtails, whatever you want to call it...”

”I always do that, too.”

“And the shirtlessness. Even by your standards, today’s shirtlessness was over the top. Most people manage to wear one shirt all day. One. But you, my friend, you apparently feel the need to change your clothing more often than a teenage girl. And you don’t even have the decency to do it in the privacy of your own office, no, apparently you need an audience!”

“I spilt my coffee.”

“Three times?”

Steve shrugs, the picture of wide-eyed innocence. “I was having one of those days.”

One of those days? Oh yes, Danny knows exactly what sort of day Steve’s been having. And he’s been having it at Danny’s expense, and if Chin and Kono haven’t guessed by now that something’s going down then they’re not the detectives Danny thinks they are. And Danny’s seeing red because it’s all too fucking much, Steve just deciding that he’s going to blow their cover without even consulting Danny, because that’s what grown up people in a relationship do, they _consult one another_ about the important stuff.

“I’m going to make you pay for all this shit today, you do know that, don’t you? You do not get away with today without there being payback, no way do you get away with that, you’ll make it up to me, you hear me?”

And, Jesus fuck, Danny knows he’s in trouble because all of a sudden Steve’s got that look, the calculating, dangerous, let’s-see-how-far-we-can-push-it look that never bodes well. He narrows his eyes, looks straight at Danny and grins, and it’s not a nice grin, no way, it’s a shark’s grin, a grin that promises murder and mayhem and fucking _misrule_ , and Danny knows that he should probably be heading home right now. Alone.

The problem is, Danny’s dick kind of likes that grin. Which means Danny’s in big trouble.

“How you going to do that, Danny? How’re you going to make me pay?”

And Danny knows a slippery slope when he sees one, but he’s no coward, and so he steps onto it anyway. And maybe, just maybe he'll call Steve's bluff, see just how far Steve's prepared to go, just how much of this bullshit today was Steve jerking Danny's chain and how much was Steve really getting off on walking the line...

"OK then, if that's how you want it... that shit you pulled at the club, McGarrett, that undercover shit, how about we have a rerun of that, right here, right now..." And Jesus, he's sees Steve's breath catch, sees Steve's whole body go tense, and the look Steve gives him is burning hot in its intensity.

Steve's voice, when he speaks, is cracked, breathless and loaded. “Is that what you want, Danny? That what you're going to do? You going to put me on my knees and make me suck you, right here, where anyone could walk in and see us?”

And there it is, the gauntlet’s been thrown, the challenge accepted, and damned if Danny’s going to be the one to back down, because, fuck, he wants this. So he holds Steve’s stare, drops his voice and shoots for low, rough and commanding. “Alright then, if that’s the way you want it. Get over here right now, get down here, down on your knees for me, c'mon, _do it_.”

And Steve just… does it, closes the gap between them and goes to his knees with a grace that almost takes Danny’s breath away. He’s down there, kneeling at Danny’s feet, looking up at him from under those ridiculous dark lashes, his tension like electricity as he waits for Danny to tell him what to do, to give him the order, and Jesus God just the thought of that is almost enough to get Danny there before Steve’s even touched him. But Danny takes his time, savours the moment, makes Steve wait for it, because, fuck, this is Steve McGarrett _on his knees_ for Danny, on his knees because Danny _put him there_ , and if that isn’t one of the biggest fucking turn-ons going then Danny doesn’t know what is.

He holds a long moment, both of them breathless, then “Come on, McGarrett, show me how much you want it, show me what you’ve got.” And Steve leans in, fingers quick and steady on Danny's fly, pulls him out and gets his mouth on him, hot and wet and _so fucking good_ that Danny knows he's going to have to fight not to come embarrassingly quickly. Danny twists his fingers into Steve's hair, forces himself to stay still, to not fuck into that hot mouth, to make Steve work for it, and he fights back the twist of jealousy in his gut, because how often has Steve done this, how many men has he done this for, to be this good at it? Steve's got the fingers of one hand cupped round Danny's balls, the middle finger and thumb of the other tight round the base of Danny's cock, and he's taking him deep in his throat with each stroke, just the right amount of suction, working him with his fingers and his tongue until Danny's right there, on the edge, and finally he lets himself move, lets himself go, thrusts forward until Steve nearly gags, and he comes hard down Steve's throat.

Steve pulls off him, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes locked on Danny's and a smug half-smile playing on his lips, and Danny so isn't having that, so he nods at his dick, “You call that done, McGarrett? You finish up what you started.” And Steve grins at him, tucks him away and carefully fastens his pants, all the while looking up at him with those sinful eyes.

He grabs Steve’s shirt, pulls him up and kisses him, and he can taste himself on Steve’s tongue, which is new and strange in all the right ways. He slides his hand down to Steve’s cock, gives him a squeeze that pulls a needy sound from Steve’s throat and says “We gonna deal with that here, princess, or are we taking this back to your place?”… just as he hears the door handle and sees Chin appear in the doorway. He pulls his hands off Steve like he’s been burnt, and Steve goes rigid.

“Sorry guys, forgot my keys,” Chin calls, jingling the offending objects in one hand and Danny watches as his eyes give them the once over and sees the shit-eating grin spread across his face. “I’m off now, see you in the morning.” He’s almost out the door when he looks back and winks at Danny. “And remember, boys, if you can’t be good, be careful!” And with that he’s gone, away down the corridor, and Danny swears he can see a gleeful bounce in his step as he pulls out his cell. And no prizes for guessing which fellow-detective and close relative he’s calling, Danny thinks. Fuck.

Steve unfreezes. “Was that…?”

“Yeah, babe, I think we’ve been made,” Danny answers, watching Steve to see how he’s going to take it. Steve’s face stays blank for a moment, then he ducks his head sideways, runs a hand through his hair and gives a wry laugh. “I guess they were going to find out sooner rather than later anyway. They are detectives, after all." His focus snaps back to Danny, and he grins suggestively. "Anyway, I believe we were discussing how you were going to return the favor, Danno..."

Danny smiles back at him. "Oh, don't worry, princess, I'll return the favor..." and he pulls Steve back in, kisses him quick and hot, "...but we're going to your place first, and then afterwards we're going to have a little talk about what constitutes _acceptable behavior in the workplace_..."

Steve laughs, pulling away and starting for the door. "Bossy, much, Danno?"

And Danny grabs his keys and follows him, grinning like a lunatic. "Oh yeah, babe, you have _no idea_!"


End file.
